


Implosion

by rei_c



Series: Pan of the Preserve [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Demigod Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Non-Canonical Character Death, Oaths & Vows, POV Stiles Stilinski, The Hale Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 10:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15970934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: Stiles is ten when the Argents arrive in Beacon Hills.





	Implosion

**Author's Note:**

> At some point, you [I] just have to throw your hands up and post the stupid thing. 
> 
> ...Please don't hurt me.

Stiles gets to Cousin Jessica's front door just after three in the morning. He knocks on the wards then lets himself in, makes sure to kick off his shoes before heading towards the kitchen. Stiles fills the kettle and turns on the burner, has to hoist himself onto the counter so he can reach the cabinet with the mugs and tea and sugar. Cousin Jessica starts thumping her way down the stairs by the time Stiles has everything ready and he watches, grinning, as she enters the kitchen and leans against the island. He's wearing jeans and a hoodie but Cousin Jessica was clearly asleep before Stiles came over -- one side of her face shows off some pretty impressive pillow-crease lines and the messy braid she puts her hair into before bed is already half out, strands and tendrils of dip-dyed hair frizzing around her face. 

She yawns, asks, "I take it something's happened?" 

"Hunters," he tells her. Her gaze sharpens as she straightens up, quickly looking much more awake. "They arrived this afternoon and look like they're settling in for the long haul: house instead of an apartment, moving company, their own furniture." 

"Do you know which clan?" Cousin Jessica asks. 

Stiles' nose wrinkles. "Argents," he says. "I heard the name a few times but they smelled of wolfsbane and gun oil." He pulls a piece of paper out of his back pocket, folded into eighths, and lifts it up enough for Cousin Jessica to see before setting it next to him. "I've got descriptions ready to send off to Aunt 'Rina and Ren for the family and our pack to look into but I think they're prob'ly here for the Hales. One of 'em snuck in the preserve while the movers were unloading boxes. The tree said she wasn't in for very long but she went right to the edge of Hale land and planted a camera in one of the birches which the birch wasn't happy about but the Argent's a good tree climber so we -- me and the tree and the birch -- decided to let it run for now -- the camera, I mean -- but we can turn it off or ruin the picture anytime if we need to and --." Stiles pauses there, looks down at his hands and murmurs, "I'm sorry I couldn't come over sooner to warn you. I wanted to but dad -- I couldn't get away 'til now." 

"I'm fine," Cousin Jessica says, and closes the distance between them, stands in between Stiles' legs and wraps Stiles up in a tight, squeezing hug. "We'll make tea and call Louisiana." 

Neither of them moves until the kettle starts screeching. 

\--

Argents have been in Beacon Hills for five weeks. Stiles has maintained a safe distance from them all, has made sure that Cousin Jessica has as well because they'd kill him but they'd wrap her up in iron and glass and bind her into service. He does as Aunt 'Rina ordered that first night: he keeps his nose clean and his territory in line and makes sure the tree's hiding. Renaud's not pleased with the situation but trusts Stiles and Cousin Jessica to ask for back-up if they need it. Actually, he calls twice a week and reminds them, which is less like trusting and more like worry but Stiles appreciates it even if he knows Renaud's only keeping the pack in Louisiana because Stiles talks to Camille every day -- sometimes twice a day, depending on how often Stiles can get to Cousin Jessica's house -- and Stiles tells Camille _everything_ , including the truth. If Camille's okay with staying in Louisiana for now, so is Renaud, and Stiles loves his alpha and his -- his Camille, for trusting him but also making sure he knows he doesn't have to do anything alone. 

Sometimes Stiles wishes his father felt the same way.

The family found names for each of the hunters in the territory pretty quickly: Kate, who's student-teaching at the high school under a different name; Gerard, her father; Chris, her brother; and four other hunters who are part of the Argent clan but don't share the last name, Sarah and Margaret and Leo and Luke. Stiles is, frankly, a little fascinated by Chris -- he seems marginally less insane than his sister and apparently has a daughter around Stiles' age, one he talks to on the phone every night -- but loathes Gerard and finds Kate bewitching and bloodthirsty like the villains in old Brothers Grimm stories. 

Kate has her sights set on Derek Hale; Stiles isn't sure what the Argent plan is but it's clear that Derek's their way into the pack as a whole. The whole thing seems impossible to Stiles -- he just doesn't know how the rest of the Hales haven't got a clue about what's going on. They don't even seem to _know_ that there are Argents in town and that's -- they deserve everything coming their way for that, even if they didn't already. 

\--

Cousin Jessica asks him once -- only once -- if he's going to do anything. 

"I swore I'd see them all dead," he reminds her, jaw set. "All the Hales. As far as I'm concerned, the Argents are doing the work for me and I can clean up anyone they miss." 

"They have children," Cousin Jessica reminds him. "Cora's in your grade."

Stiles and Cora have never been in the same class but their grade shares lunches and recesses and goes on field trips together sometimes. She's pushed Jackson over once or twice, she doesn't like Lydia, she _really_ doesn't like Danny, and the one time she was near Scott when Scott had an asthma attack, she ran away. Stiles doesn't much care for Cora Hale. 

He makes a face, says, "Cora's not worth breaking my pledge." 

Cousin Jessica tries again, says, "They haven't done anything to --" 

Stiles has had enough. He cuts her off, says, "They hurt my tree," and knows that his words are echoing through the territory in bent branches, rustling bushes, creaking roots. He exhales through his nose, calms himself, calms the territory and the tree and the _bakkheia_ rising up inside of him, pushing him towards a bloody vengeance that's going to include Cousin Jessica if she tries to stop him. He bites back the madness, forces it under his control using every trick his aunts and cousins have taught him and then uses the strength of his pack bonds to Renaud and Camille as well. "They hurt my tree," he says, again. "And they're a pack. What one does, the pack holds the weight of, Ren taught us that." 

Cousin Jessica's eyes go soft, just a little. "Derek's just a teenager," she says. "It's not fair to have him be the --" 

"Derek's the one who killed the girl on my tree," Stiles says, interrupting again, voice gone cold and hard like winter soil. He can feel his _bakkheia_ throb behind his eyes. "He didn't bite her but he killed her _on my tree_. If anyone in the Hale pack deserves what the Argents have planned, he does. Him, his alpha, anyone who shares his blood, they all deserve death for trying to feed my tree poisoned meat." 

"You won't change your mind?" Cousin Jessica asks. Stiles shakes his head, just once. Cousin Jessica sighs, inclines her head, says, "As you say, Pan-ling. I'll maintain my distance." 

Stiles' eyes, gleaming with the light of his magic, narrow. "And you won't interfere," he says. 

Cousin Jessica meets his gaze, then drops her head, closes her eyes. "And I won't interfere." 

\--

Three months later, Stiles sits cradled in one of the pines surrounding the Hale house and listens to the Hales scream as they burn. He's there to make sure the fire doesn't spread and reassure his territory that it will be okay in the morning -- in truth, that's only part of the reason he's there. Mostly he's watching to make sure the Hales die. 

The majority of the family's trapped in the house. Stiles doesn't know how Peter got out but the alpha's left hand stands covered in flames and screaming at the edge of a mountain ash barrier for someone, anyone, to help. Stiles doesn't move. Peter falls to the ground, screams turning to sobs turning to silence.

One of the oaks tells him that there's a young 'wolf tucked in a crevice between its roots, hiding. At Stiles' assent, the oak sends roots through Cora, piercing her heart and mouth and gut, killing her. The tree grows around her as she dies; it's a better tomb than she deserves.

The fire's still burning hot when the fire department arrives. They run through the mountain ash, stifle the flames burning on Peter's clothes and hair, get him to an ambulance. The EMS sirens are just fading out of hearing when Laura and Derek get home. Laura drops to her knees and howls but Derek just stands there. 

A smile creeps across Stiles' lips.


End file.
